


Sam and Dean get high af

by RomanGodfrey



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 19:22:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3180230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RomanGodfrey/pseuds/RomanGodfrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean totes get high, Sam's POV</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sam and Dean get high af

**Author's Note:**

> wrote such a long time ago, but just wanted to post it

The answering machine message ended and Dean snapped the cell phone shut; the small click irked Sam, like the click itself personally insulted him. A car drove by splattering the impala with water droplets, and Dean let out a sigh that didn’t sound half as frustrated as Sam felt. Dean glanced around the end of the impala to look where the water had fallen and Sam ran his fingers through his hair. 

_Why is dad doing this?_

“Where the fuck is Dad,”

  “Sam, we just gotta-” Dean started but Sam interrupted causing Dean eyes to widen slightly.

 “No, Dean, where the fuck is Dad! We’ve searched for him, and we’ve called him and he just fucking changed his answering machine so now everyone is just going to be directed at us! Why couldn’t he just pick up the damn phone and call us? Or at least fucking answer our calls?”

  “I don’t know, man.” Sam knew Dean was just as clueless about John as he was, but he needed to ask. To get it off his chest, to state his concerns out loud, even if the only person who knew the answers wasn’t there.  

They had just finished exorcising the demon that caused the flight 2845 to crash. Sam was completely exhausted and he knew Dean was most likely still getting over the potential plane crash, he had completely freaked out.

Dean had been intrigued by what Jerry Panowski said about Dad’s answering machine message. They had huddled  together around Dean’s small flip phone and Dean dialed the number they thought didn’t work. To Sam’s frustration, Johns voice picked up, telling the caller to call Dean instead and then recited Dean’s number. John’s voice made Sam grind his teeth together. He remembered Dad telling him not to do that or he would grind away his teeth, in that same gruff voice. He remembered how he would want to grind even harder, and as a grown man, he fought the urge to.

  “I’m so frustrated, Dean! With Dad and with how calm you are about this.” Sam shook his head; the motion gave him the beginnings of a head ache, a deep pounding in his temples.

   _Great, a migraine is just what I need_

  “Dude you need to chill out, you are going to blow a vessel.”

  “Chill out? Chill out?!” Sam ran his hands through his hair and let out a frustrated sigh. The whole thing, Dad missing, these side jobs that obviously weren’t getting them closer to finding him and the utter need for revenge against that evil bastard that murdered Jess. It was like he couldn’t do anything, he couldn’t save Jessica, he couldn’t kill the monster and he couldn’t even find his own fucking father.

  “Sam, calm down.”

  Sam considered just walking off, putting Dean and Dad behind him. He could just find and kill the demon that killed Mom and Jess himself.   

_Since Dad wants to fucking play around_

  It would be easy, for the most part. He would just walk off, cut all ties again, and not look back. Let Dad and Dean Deal by themselves.   

_Why do I need Dad? I am an adult, I don’t need my father making decisions for me or telling me what to do_

Sam turned back towards the road, considering his options. Staying away from Dean and Dad wasn’t going to be easy at all, they were both just as good at tracking as him. Especially because Sam had stopped practicing once he was at Stanford, he didn’t think he would need it again. Finding the demon would be very hard, near impossible. Dad has been trying for years to no prevail. He would find a way though, somehow, on his own. His foot moved forward, almost of its own accord.

   _I can’t though, Dean needs my help_

His head started hurting worse, like the two sides of his brain, the one telling him to stay and the one telling him to go were trying to tear away from each other. Sam sighed and walked back to the car. He laid his forehead against metal of the top, it wasn’t very cool in the mid-afternoon sun but it helped his head. He felt Deans hand rest on his shoulder, Dean was comforting him like he did when they were children.

   _I have to stay. Even if it means putting up with Dads bullshit, for Dean’s sake._

“Dude, get in the car. I got something that’ll make you feel better.” Sam turned his head to look at him; Dean looked like he knew something Sam didn’t and that in itself made him curious.

  “What is it?”  

  “Get in the car,” Dean smirked at him. Sam wiped his forehead and climbed in the car. He was skeptical about what Dean thought would make him feel better, because he didn’t know how he felt. Dean had always been the good son. Didn’t go against what Dad said, followed and just knew that it was right. Sam couldn’t do that. Inside the car Dean was smiling at him, holding a small square box.

  “What’s in the box?” Sam asked. Dean chuckled as he unlatched the small container. Inside was a baggie of something green and lumpy. Next to it was a pipe, and a black Zippo lighter.   

“Dude, really? Weed?”

  “Hells yeah, this shits good.” Dean said nodding, he pulled out a blunt from somewhere in the box and held it in Sam’s face.

  “Dude, no.” Sam objected.   

“Dude, yes.” Dean wiggled it in Sam’s eyes. “You know you want too.”   

_Do I?_

  “No, I don’t.” Sam said rolling his eyes.

  “Yes, you do,” Dean scoffed.   

_Maybe just a little bit, but…_

“No,”

  “Yes,”

_But it’s illegal_

  “No!”   

“Yes!”

   _Do I really care if it’s illegal or not? We kill things for a living, not like a little weed will damn me to hell_

  “C’mon, it’ll be fun…. Bitch.”

_Fuck it_

  Sam snatched the blunt from him. “Give me a fucking lighter…. Jerk.”    

Dean smiled victoriously, and held up the black lighter. “I call her ‘Green’” He flipped the lighter around in his hand and Sam saw the bright green weed leaf on the front.   

“You named your lighter with a weed leaf on it ‘Green’?” Sam scoffed. “I’m blown away by your originality and uniqueness.”   

_Who the fuck names their lighter?_    

“Shut up,” Dan tossed ‘Green’ at him and Sam caught it between two fingers. Sam placed the blunt between his lips and flicked open ‘Green’. The first inhale was rough; it burnt.   Sam hadn’t smoked since Halloween before last. He and Jess were going to smoke this past Halloween, but Sam had backed out at last minute, worried that the university might drug test him or something, Jess had called him a pussy and had smoked without him. Sam laughed at the memory.  

_Bad idea_    

Sam started coughing and it made his throat burn even more and his eyes started tearing up.

  “You smoke like a pussy,”   

“Fuck you,” Sam said between coughs. He raised the blunt to his mouth again, but this time took a smaller puff, not wanting that much pain in his throat. He handed it back to Dean, who practically grabbed it and inhaled longer than Sam thought possible. And just like Sam thought, he started coughing, heavily with his hand cupped around his mouth. Sam reached out to touch Deans shoulder, to see if he was okay, but when Dean saw, Sam just pretended to be trying to get the blunt. Sam expected him to be like ‘uh-uh, hands off’ but instead he just let Sam slip it out of his fingers.  

Sam laid it on his lips, careful not wet it to much. He sucked in, deep as he could, enjoying the feel of the smoke trail down his throat. “Dean, I’m starting to feel it,” Sam said after he exhaled. He felt his eyelids drooping, and his body felt hot and cold at the same time. He was oddly aware of the oxygen going in his nose and through his body. He could feel it spreading everywhere, to his fingertips and down his legs.   

“Told you,” Dean said, and taking the blunt back. Sam suddenly saw the lines in his knuckles as he laid his spread fingers on his thigh, he bent and unbent them again to see the lines appear and disappear.   

_They’re so fucking intricate_    

Sam started laughing at them. Dean started laughing too, the noise sounded weird, too high pitched. “What are you laughing at?” Sam asked him.

  “You, What are you laughing at?”

  “These lines on my fingers,” Sam giggled, putting his hand in Dean’s face, almost smacking him in the process. Dean laughed at them too now as he put the blunt in Sam’s hands.   Sam took a puff. “Dude, what if… Little people lived in my knuckles…. And… And the crinkles were their roads and every time I bent my knuckles it was like an earthquake for them?” Sam took another puff, a bigger one now, and stared at the bright red cherry.

  Dean started laughing uncontrollably and after a repeated ‘what?’ from Sam he finally said “Man, you said crinkles,”   

"So?"

  ”I don’t know, it just sounded funny,” Dean had the blunt in his mouth. Sam didn’t remember giving it to him though.   

Sam twisted his head to look out of the window and pressed his face against the glass, his breath starting to fog it up. The sky was beautiful; the sun was going down, making pretty swirls of pink and purple with a baby blue background. It looked magical; it looked like something out of some other world.   

_Some place where unicorns exist and pixies float around_    

  
“Sam, what are you doing?”   

Sam’s snapped his head back towards Dean, almost burning himself on the lit end of the blunt in Dean’s hand.     
  
 _Fuck!_  
  
  Dean’s hand was extended across the small space of the car, offering Sam the blunt. His body was slow, like it was moving through water. It didn’t react to commands as it normally would, it seemed like there was a wall between his brain and his body and it was blocking all communication.    
  
  “I… I was looking at the sky.” Sam whispered, his jaw was heavy and his tongue too thick. “It’s beautiful,” He took hold of the ever-shortening blunt and held it to his mouth a moment before actually inhaling. It tasted funny now, like cheap Jell-O and ash.      
  
The red cherry was too close to Sam’s fingers for comfort, he felt the red heat of it and it felt scorching. He passed it back to Dean, who took it greedily. He apparently didn’t mind the heat of the cherry.     
  
Dean’s large hand was bent awkwardly trying to hold on to the tiny little nub of a blunt, and his lips were poked out in an unnatural state trying to smoke the last bit out of it. He took one more hit and then unrolled his window and flicked it out.     
  
 _He must not save the roaches_     
  
  Dean’s Head swiveled around and looked at Sam. Dean’s facial expression was one of pure contentment; His mouth was turned up in a smug little grin that made his eyes crinkle at the sides. His eyes themselves were droopy and red, with his bright jade iris clashing against the red, which reminded Sam slightly of those red christmas tree ornaments, hanging on trees that are too green and perfectly shaped to be real on TV commercials.   
  
He adjusted himself in the seat and leaned his head against the seat and shut his eyes.    
  
 _He’s probably about to fall asleep._       
  
Sam turned to face the front of the car. The few times they had smoked together, Dean always like to chill, sit down or lay down but Sam always wanted to do something. He always got the strangest urge to walk, and just look at everything and study things. To go to a old library and dig through huge, dusty books and learn about things he didn’t know existed.  One time he tried to count every single grain of sand in the parking lot of a hotel; Dean had left him to go inside and shower, and had apparently forgotten about him, which was rare. Almost four hours later he had came back outside looking for him, and found him across the parking lot, on his hands and knees counting intensely. Sam had been so blazed he didn’t remember any of it but Dean liked to remind him of it periodically. The next morning he woke up to find his legs swollen and two large bright purple bruises on his knees, needless to say he freaked the fuck out and called frantically for Dean; Dean had walked in the room, taken one look at him and burst out laughing. Sam was still embarrassed about it.    
  
They sat there for what seemed like five minutes and five hours at the same time. Time moved so weirdly when he was high that Sam could never tell, and he didn’t really care to look at his phone and see. It didn’t matter; they didn’t really have anywhere to be right now. No specific place or time that they had to leave. As it had always been with the Winchesters, you find a job, go kill the monster, and you go find another job. But there was no time limit. Not with Dean anyway, he was pretty cool about just kinda taking a few hours in between jobs to chill.  
  
  Dad though … He always was looking for another job as soon as the monster stopped breathing. Heh, bastard.  
  
  Sam suddenly started feeling hot   _,_  
  
 _Or maybe i’ve been feeling hot and I didn’t realize. Either way …_  
  
Sam leaned forward and flipped on the air conditioning. A cool blast of air flew into his face and made his eyes flutter. The air seemed to swerve and flow around Sam instead of actually touching him. He imagined cartoon swirls floating around him and fell into a giggling fit. A snort so loud he startled himself came out of him and Dean jumped, his hands shooting up, one to the gun in his jacket and one to the steering wheel.    
  
"Thought you were asleep,"    
  
“What?” Dean groaned.     
  
“Nothing, I thought you were asleep.” Sam’s face was tingling.   
  
“What are we going to do now?”      
  
“I don’t know man.” Dean ran his fingers through his hair, leaving it rumpled and unruly. He shrugged. “Are you hungry? I’m hungry, I saw a Diner a while back. We could go there,”   
  
  Sam gasped. “Yes! Dude, I’m so craving…. Food! Juicy meat and a Caesar salad! Oh my god, yes.”   
  
  “Dude, you got really excited.” Dean giggled, “Okay let’s go,”   
  
He cranked the engine, and started towards the road.      
  
“Wait, you okay to drive?” Sam inquired.  
  
  Dean glared at him through squinted eyes, obviously telling him to fuck off.  
  
  “Okay man, whatever. Just don’t get us killed.”  

 

 


End file.
